


A Prince to Rival the Affection

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Good Morgana (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Minor Violence, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin), lots of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: A visiting Prince starts to cause trouble for Merlin, while everyone else seems to adore him. If only Merlin could go to Arthur for help
Relationships: Merlin (Merlin)/Other(s), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 873
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	1. Prince Kairon

When Arthur was angry, Merlin usually was the one that had to deal with it. He was on the bad end of the King’s quick temper, of his snarky remarks and sometimes hurtful comments. It wasn’t anything Merlin was unused to, over his many years of service he had gotten used to Arthur in all his conditions. So, with the peace talks beginning over the upcoming threat of the Saxon army, now was a time of stress.

The King needed Prince Kairon’s support, and without it, they didn’t have the numbers to defeat them. Queen Mithian had already given her full support, terrified of the armies amassing against them, and this was the treaty that would save Albion.

Which meant Merlin was supposed to support it. He should be by Arthur’s side, encouraging the peace. Without revealing his Magic, he had no other way to assist them, and Morgana’s training wasn’t coming along quick enough to defeat an entire army.

Prince Kairon was from the Northern stretches of Albion, and had brought with him around a hundred men. It was a mere fraction of what he had available, and along with gold, he had a lot to offer the Kingdom of Camelot. Arthur had welcomed the man with open arms, encouraged Kairon to settle into the Castle like it was his own.

He was young, probably Merlin’s age, with auburn hair and green eyes. Handsome, in a way that had all the women in Camelot swooning, while the men were quick to praise. The Knights loved him, even Arthur seemed smitten, which left Merlin.

Merlin, who despised the man with everything he had. Not just because he was a visitor to Camelot, and they were usually dangerous, but because the man didn’t have very high opinions on Magic.

‘Merlin, isn’t it?’ He halted in his tracks, almost dropped the basket of washing he was holding. The Prince smiled, a steady twitch of his lips that dragged into something sinister, while the Warlock tried to keep his racing heart steady.

‘Yes, milord.’ Arthur needed Kairon. That was what he had said, while Merlin tried to point out that they could have managed without him. It was a lie, but he had a bad feeling about Kairon. Arthur had dismissed him, told him not to come back until he’d had an attitude change, and Merlin suspected most of the Castle knew about their argument.

Rumours spread quickly. Even with the Queen trying to prevent them, and Lady Morgana sticking up for him. That was until she’d met Kairon, and pointed out he seemed to be a reasonable man.

‘Heard you’re quite protective over your Master.’ The last word was a tease, and the Warlock fought the rising urge to use his Magic to get himself out of the situation. The Prince took a step closer, a hand stretching out and resting on Merlin’s shoulder.

‘He’s my friend.’ Merlin was surprised when his words came out as a whisper, wondered why his gut was tightening to an ache as the Prince took another step. The basket of laundry dropped, clattering to the stone floor and Merlin’s back pressing to the wall.

‘You’re strangely loyal, for a servant.’ It was a harsh reminder of his title, of the fact he was the only one remaining in a position a servant life to the King. The hand moved to his cheek, a brief brush over skin before the Prince stepped back.

‘I’ll protect your King, Merlin. Don’t you worry.’

**

‘It’s only temporary, my boy.’ Merlin just smiled wearily, continued to pack what little clothing he had into a bag. Gaius stood in the doorway, watching his movements like he suspected something was wrong, but there was little he could do about it. After all, Gaius was the Court Physician first, his Uncle second. If he needed the room to treat patients, then Merlin would give it.

He could stay in the antechamber to Arthur’s room. Or, an even better, there was always a room for him at Gwen’s old house.

It was only when he made it to the Castle steps that he remembered Lancelot and Gwaine were currently taking up residence in that home, with Elyan, while they offered out their rooms to some of the visiting men.

‘Going somewhere?’ Prince Kairon trotted down the steps leisurely, clapped a hand to Merlin’s shoulder much like a friend would. In the courtyard below, the maids giggled and ducked their heads to whisper with each other, while he spotted Sir Leon and some of the other Knights walking towards the training grounds.

‘The Physician needs his rooms.’ Merlin said, quickly adding a Sire to the end of the sentence. The Prince chuckled, while Merlin spotted Gwaine. For some reason, he thought the Knight might come across and offer out his help, but why would he?

Prince Kairon was their saviour, and Merlin was a servant.

‘I have my antechamber free, if it would be of any use?’ He should go to Arthur. The King would take him in, would be more than happy to have Merlin staying in the antechamber that most manservants would have stayed in anyway. But then the Prince was guiding him towards the Castle, and Merlin wasn’t arguing.

For all his Magic, Merlin was powerless.

**

‘You’re _replacing_ me?!’ Merlin knew that raising his voice wasn’t the best way to go, especially not when the King was so angry anyway. The Knights didn’t look pleased with the decision, stood around Arthur’s room with varying emotions. From Gwaine death-glaring the King, to Leon’s quite annoyance, it was clear they didn’t agree.

‘Not replacing. Giving you a break, so you can help Gaius for a bit.’ Replacing him. Merlin looked past Arthur, to the antechamber where George was awkwardly standing. Merlin had walked in, ready to ask the King to sleep in that room, only to find it had been taken over by the King’s other manservant.

‘I don’t want a break.’ Merlin defied, but Arthur was already turning away.

‘Take a couple of days. A week. Calm your anger down.’ Prince Kairon. That’s what this was about, the way he had reacted.

He’d been wrong, to think he could tell Arthur about the Prince. Even if he could, what would he say? There was nothing to admit to, the Prince hadn't done anything wrong apart from smile at him a little.

‘Fine.’ Merlin seethed quietly, keeping to himself the insults that he wanted to hurl at the King.

**

‘I heard that the Prince is thinking about asking Arthur for his manservant.’

‘Well I heard that Merlin’s staying in his Chambers!’

‘I think they’re sleeping together!’

‘After the way Merlin reacted to him?’

Arthur bit his lip harder, felt the skin split as he tried to ignore the gossip that spread like wildfire through the Castle. He’d thought Merlin would go, maybe travel to see his Mother, but instead, he’d gone to Kairon’s side.

The Prince treated Merlin like a friend, rather than a servant. He sought Merlin out, would study him from across the table at dinner.

He hated it.

‘Have you considered that your anger over the Prince comes from your… affections for Merlin?’ Morgana questioned, taking a bite of her breakfast while the King went to deny her statement.

But his mouth opened, and no words came out. The Knights waited, Gwen waited, Morgana waited.

‘It’s alright, Arthur. We all knew anyway.’ Gwen calmly stated, her hand resting over his and brushing her thumb in patterned circles. Morgana watched her with the brightest smile, the love between them clearly visible.

‘I don’t like Merlin.’ He lied, the words tasting foul. Gwaine snorted with laughter, before Lancelot hit his arm.

‘Would Merlin really leave… Camelot?’ _Me._ The unspoken word was heard by all at the table, but nobody answered.

Arthur couldn’t let Merlin go.

**

‘Are you looking for a new Master?’ Kairon questioned, shutting the door to the antechamber while Merlin tried to look around the room for some form of escape.

‘My home is in Camelot.’ Even if Arthur didn’t want him, Merlin couldn’t leave. He’d never leave, that was the truth. His heart cared too much for Arthur, despite their differences.

‘You could come home with me, to my Kingdom. I’d introduce you to my Mother, the Queen, to my younger sisters.’ Kairon spoke little of his family, usually just bragged about the numbers of Knights he had. Merlin took a step back, only for his knees to hit the bed that Kairon had been kind enough to order into the room.

‘I belong to Arthur.’ Heart, body and mind.

‘Nothing could make you stray?’ Kairon’s hand closed around his wrist, tugging him close until there was no gap.

His body threatened to bring up bile, his hands shaking when he tried to push away.

‘Sire, milord, I…’

‘You’re my servant now, Merlin.’ He ordered, his voice strangely calm while his fingers tightened around the bone.

‘Let me go.’ Merlin whispered, somehow knowing it wouldn’t be obeyed.

He was right.

**

The more he scrubbed at his skin, the worse the feeling got. He didn’t even think that peeling off his skin would work right now, it was tainted right to his core, to where his Magic was hiding.

He hadn't used his Magic.

Merlin belonged to Arthur, that was the truth. It always had been, ever since Merlin realised that the Clotpole-Prince was worth saving.

Red blotches began to spread over his skin, the water was far too hot to be washing in. Eventually, when the water began to turn red from the sores he’d opened up, Merlin concluded that this wasn’t a very affective way of spending his time.

He had to save Arthur, but he also had to get away from the Prince.

Bile rose at the name, just the very thought, and he had to swallow it down quickly and ignore the burning of his windpipe.

‘Merlin?’ In his haste to clean, he hadn't heard the door open. He hadn't seen the man approach, nor watched the horror on his expression when he looked Merlin over.

‘George, I…’ He grabbed his shirt, quickly tried to pull it over his bruised torso. How had George found him? They were down in the bottom of the Castle, in a room he’d dragged a tub into to try and get rid of the touch of the Prince.

‘Have you told the King?’ George carefully knelt beside him, reaching for a cloth and bringing it to Merlin’s lip. The Warlock trembled slightly under the touch, but didn’t stop the servant as he dabbed at the blood.

‘No. He needs… Camelot needs K-Kairon.’ George didn’t point out Merlin fumbling over it, kept a steady face while he helped.

‘You should tell him. If not him, then one of the Knights.’ It was a thing he tried to consider, telling one of the Knights. But it was a servant’s word against that of a Prince, and he had very little evidence.

‘That’s a lie, Merlin. Look at you.’ He must have said the last bit aloud, winced when George’s fingers dipped to the hem of his shirt. Unlike Kairon, there was nothing other than concern, than a demand to make things better.

‘Sir Leon, at the very least…’

‘No. Without him, Camelot doesn’t stand a chance.’ George didn’t deny it, which made the feeling worse. He had no choice but to be quiet, to keep himself away from Kairon.

‘The Queen…’

‘Please, George.’

**

‘Oh I can serve you both, milord. No need to trouble another servant.’ George said, smoothly cutting off the reply Arthur could give about Kairon’s request.

The dinner was loud, people gathered in the room and eating the finest foods. The Queen was at the King’s side, Lady Morgana beside her. Kairon was to the King’s other side, and it was at the beginning of the feast that the Prince requested Merlin to serve him.

George’s loyalties were split. He was the King’s stand-in manservant, but he also knew Merlin. Despite their differences, the man was just as friendly to him as everyone else. Extra food rations if he ever fell short, a meal waiting in his room when he worked late. Merlin had every reason to despise him, but he didn’t. Sure, they had an odd relationship that was filled with avoiding each other, but George wasn’t an idiot. While he may be the perfect example of a servant, Merlin was what Arthur wanted.

Which was why he cut into the conversation, broke his usual helpful-façade, and Prince Kairon’s gaze narrowed.

‘If you don’t mind, George.’ Arthur slowly stated, like he was trying to figure out why he’d denied the request.

He’d seen Merlin just moments before this feast, caught sight of what Kairon had done to him. Any other servant would risk telling a Knight, but Merlin? He was so obsessed with keeping Arthur safe, with keeping Camelot safe, that he would rather suffer.

He continued to serve those that sat at the high end of the table, laughed politely at Gwaine’s jokes and smiled when Leon thanked him. These people were Merlin’s friends, if they even suspected what the Prince had done…

It was Sir Lancelot that George paused at. The Knight knew about that secret that George wasn’t allowed to know, the one that Merlin used to keep Arthur safe. If anyone could be trusted to act rationally…

Sir Leon was loyal to Arthur and the Kingdom.

Sir Percival would go with whatever Sir Gwaine decided.

Sir Gwaine would kill Kairon where he sat.

Sir Elyan thought of Merlin as a little brother, and would be angry.

Sir Lancelot? He would be protective, yes, but he might also understand Merlin’s reasoning.

As he went to approach, the loud noise of the feast covered up the fact that he bent down while filling the goblet up.

‘May I have a word, Sir Lancelot? About Merlin.’ He then straightened, acted as if nothing had happened. The Knight was good, managed to keep his face straight before excusing himself a while later, George taking the empty jug of wine to fill.

Out in the corridor, a hand grabbed his sleeve and tugged him into an alcove. George didn’t need to panic, knew it was only Sir Lancelot.

‘You said you had something to tell me?’ The Knight calmly inquired, George glancing around the corner, before stepping back in.

‘The Prince, he hurt Merlin.’ George had been right, Lancelot reacted exactly as expected. Anger, quickly schooled back into a calm expression.

‘How badly?’ The bruises, the fingerprint marks that George had seen, the blood from Merlin trying to scratch away the evidence.

‘Badly enough that I’m speaking to you, Sir Knight. He’s afraid that if the King finds out…’

‘That the treaty will fall through.’ Sir Lancelot concluded, to which George nodded. For a moment, the silence stretched, before George had an idea. A bad one.

‘If… If Merlin was to reveal his… gift, could we win?’ Lancelot’s eyes widened dramatically, lips parting in shock, but George kept calm.

‘You know.’

‘I’d never tell a soul.’ He assured, and Lancelot studied him.

‘Why protect Merlin?’

‘Because he protects the King.’

**

‘I’m heading North tomorrow, to bring my men for your King.’ Merlin sat on the bed, perfectly still as Kairon walked around the antechamber. He didn’t look very happy at the moment, a deep-set frown on his face before he halted, looking across to the Warlock.

‘Come with me.’ Merlin expected that. The Prince crouched down to eye-level with him, reached for the neckerchief that hid the bruising.

‘Arthur…’

‘Would drop you in a heartbeat, if he knew how far you’d fallen.’ The Prince guided him up to his feet, gripping his hip and holding him steady.

He should use his Magic.

Pressed back to the wall, to the fresh bruises that ran down his back. It hurt so much, but his lips wouldn’t shape any words, nothing more than a whimper when fingers closed around his neck.

‘I’m not asking, Merlin.’

He needed to use his Magic.

A knee pushed between his, shoving them apart while the Prince grabbed both of his hands, pressing them to the stone.

‘Please, sire, I don’t…’ His head was shoved back, a ringing taking over his ears as black spots danced over his vision. It wasn’t helped by the hand around his neck, squeezing tighter until he couldn’t _breathe_ , but the Prince didn’t release the grip.

He was ashamed by the next thought that crossed his mind, that maybe Arthur wasn’t worth all this pain. That using his Magic was the right action, that it didn’t matter if Arthur never spoke to him again, as long as he could still breathe.

‘You’re so pretty… Arthur was stupid to ever let you out of his sight.’ The head ducked lower, to the crook of his neck, before Merlin dared to open his eyes.

It was the second time someone had managed to creep up on him, only this time, it wasn’t George.

‘Step away, Prince Kairon.’ Lancelot’s sword was drawn, dangerously pointing at the Prince like he would actually dare to strike. Merlin gulped in air as the hand released, slid down the wall until he hit the floor and dragged his knees up to his chest.

‘You’d dare to threaten me, Knight?’ Kairon hissed, but Lancelot didn’t waver.

‘The King and his Knights are coming. If you want to remain unhurt, I’d suggest you run.’

His chest hurt. Everything hurt, but Merlin couldn’t get over the fact that maybe Kairon had been right. If Arthur saw him like this, as nothing more than a plaything for a foreign Prince…

‘The King needs me. Without my armies…’

‘We have Merlin. Worth far more than anything you could bring.’ The door swung open further, a second set of footsteps followed by more people, people he called friends.

He dared to look up, to meet Arthur’s eye for the briefest of moments, before it was interrupted by the Prince between them.

**

Lancelot heard the bones shatter, there was no mistaking the cracking sound. Arthur’s sword was drawn before anyone could blink, Kairon reaching for his own while Merlin screamed. The Warlock then fell silent, but it didn’t take Lancelot long to realise that was because he’d fallen unconscious. Unsurprising, really, his ankle looked to be broken in multiple places.

‘Step away from him.’ Arthur growled out, Gwaine by his side looking ready to murder the Prince. Lancelot stuck to the edges of the room, moving closer to Merlin and watching as Kairon took a step away.

George had told him, and Lancelot had paused. Because he still didn’t know how Arthur would react to Merlin’s Magic. That hesitation had cost his friend a lot, he could see it now, in the purple and blue colouring around his neck.

The sound of swords clashing filled the room, Arthur ordering the Knights back while Lancelot finally reached Merlin. The Warlock stirred at his touch, mumbled something under his breath while he tried to coax him back to life.

‘Lance?’ He slurred, eyes trying to focus but failing.

‘Merlin, that’s it, I need you to…’ Arthur shouted, a grunted curse as blood stained Kairon’s sword.

If there was one thing that would wake Merlin, it was Arthur being in danger. Lancelot watched Merlin sit upright, eyes on the point where Arthur was clutching his bleeding arm, and the Knight couldn’t stop him if he tried.

‘Arthur!’ Merlin cried, eyes filling with gold as the Prince went flying across the room.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's not happy, Merlin's not happy...

‘He’ll recover, Sire, but he might always walk with a slight limp.’ Gaius remarked, while Gwaine ran his fingers through Merlin’s hair. The Warlock was out cold, Arthur standing at the end of the bed with his face emotionless, save for the anger in his eyes.

‘And if it was healed with Magic?’ The word was a new one between this group, each member having a different reaction.

‘I’d expect a full recovery.’ Gaius answered honestly, to which Arthur turned to Sir Lancelot.

‘Fetch Lady Morgana from the dungeons, inform her that we need her… skillset.’ The Knight vanished in a heartbeat, the only one that Arthur could trust not to kill Kairon where he stood. Even Sir Leon had drawn his sword when they’d seen the state of Merlin.

‘The Saxon army, is it true that Merlin can help?’ Arthur questioned. Gaius was watching him, studying him, trying to figure out if Arthur was angry.

Honestly, the King was. Angrier than he’d ever been before, because Merlin had only used his Magic when Arthur was in danger. He hadn't stopped Kairon, hadn't even trusted him with what was happening. The King had found out through his Knight, and George, that Merlin was being hurt.

Not just with bruises, if George’s quiet explanation was correct.

‘I believe he can, Sire.’ Gaius steadily answered, while the Knights processed the information. Arthur could see that it changed nothing for Gwaine, the Knight would protect Merlin from anyone. Elyan didn’t seem to care that the secret had been kept, a similar reaction to Sir Percival. Sir Leon looked hurt, more from the fact Merlin had kept such a secret, than anything else.

When Morgana entered the room, Arthur studied the blood staining the front of her dress and her hands, before finally meeting her eye.

‘Kairon’s the youngest of four sons, not the heir to the throne like he led us to believe. I think his family might be inclined to forget the entire problem.’ She spoke like it didn’t affect her, but Arthur watched as her eyes betrayed the movements. They welled with tears, a fierceness that he had only seen when Morgana protected Gwen.

His sister took the offered cloth from Gwen, who was standing by Arthur’s side, cleaning her hands and then approaching Merlin. The moment her fingers brushed over his skin, even if it was only the shattered ankle, the sorcerer began to stir.

‘Shh, sleep Emrys, it’s only me.’ Arthur still hadn't got used to the gold in her eyes, the way she used Magic so… easily. Her hands closed over the bruised ankle and he watched as the swelling began to reduce, words that he couldn’t understand falling from her lips.

‘I can’t do much more, I’m not strong enough.’ Morgana explained, rising up and stumbling slightly. It was Gwen that caught her, stabilised the Sorceress.

‘We’ll send Kairon back to his Kingdom.’ Arthur gritted out, knowing it was the right decision despite wanting to run him through with a sword. Morgana cocked her head to the side, a flash of her old self coming out in the concern that laced her next words.

‘And the army? How will we protect Albion?’ Arthur nodded to Merlin in answer to her question. Morgana paused, before sitting down on the side of the bed that Merlin was in.

‘Do you know how strong he is?’ She asked, a genuine question.

‘Sir Lancelot tells me he’s been protecting me since he first came to Camelot.’ Part of him wanted Morgana to deny it, to tell him it was a joke. When she didn’t, the ache in his gut burned fiercely, too much for him to bear. He turned away from his broken manservant to look at his Knights, tried to clear his expression of the pain he was feeling.

‘Send Kairon to the border. And if he’s a little bruised by the time you get there… Well, the woods are a dangerous place.’ Leon bowed his head, Percival and Elyan falling in step behind him as they left.

Lancelot didn’t follow, moved to Gwaine’s side and reached for one of Merlin’s hands.

Arthur had a manservant that could do Magic. Powerful Magic, according to the stories.

‘I’ll need the Council assembled. They won’t be happy to hear that they have to rely on Magic to win this war.’

**

Merlin woke up to the smell of lavender, hair tickling his nose in a way that had him pulling back. His front was pressed to someone, a leg kicked between his and an arm wrapped around him. Strangely, he didn’t panic, probably because his Magic recognised the Witch before he’d even become aware that she was curled up with him.

‘M’gana?’ He slurred, his tongue heavy and the metallic taste overpowering in his mouth. Still, that one word was enough for the Witch to sit upright sharply, before he was scooped into a second hug. This one was warm, her Magic latching onto him like it did when they were training together.

‘I thought you would never wake.’ She murmured, while Merlin’s memory tried to piece together what had happened. He had been sitting on his bed in the antechamber, and Kairon had been there…

Magic.

He’d used Magic in front of the King of Camelot, against a Crown Prince.

The guilt and fear came like a flood, drowning him and choking out any words that he tried to get out. Morgana’s hands were back, cradling him carefully and catching the tears as they fell.

‘Listen to me very carefully, Merlin, because we don’t have long…’

**

‘… you cannot expect us to trust Magic!’

‘And how do we know the boy is strong enough to support us?’

Nobody had questioned Merlin’s loyalty. That was the first problem out of the way instantly, and most had been horrified to hear that Kairon had… mistreated his manservant. Then came the fear of sorcery, of doubting he could even perform such a spell.

Just as Arthur was tempted to start shouting, despite Gwen’s hand sitting over his own in comfort, the doors opened.

Morgana’s eyes flicked golden as the candles in the room lit, ever-dramatic as she entered the Council room. Merlin was by her side, his neckerchief abandoned and in place the colourful selection of bruises, his eyes swollen from crying and face pale.

He looked ill. Terrible, like a man on the door of death, but he wasn’t limping as he kept in step with the Sorceress.

‘I can stop the army before they reach Camelot. All of them. I just need Lady Morgana by my side, and a sword.’ Merlin’s voice was strong, didn’t waver as he met Arthur’s eye. Deep under the false-confidence, Arthur could see the fear of his reaction.

How was Arthur going to react? He’d had time to think, with Merlin’s unconscious body providing no answers to the questions he had asked him. It was a betrayal, one that cut deeper than Morgana’s, but he could see the point behind it.

Knowing you had a gift that would get you killed? Could Magic be that evil, if Merlin had it?

‘You? An entire army, versus two sorcerers? What…’ Arthur held his hand up, silencing the noble that was about to argue.

‘You’ll be accompanied by me, and a select choosing of Knights.’ He didn’t need to specify which ones, Merlin knew.

His manservant nodded, Gwen beaming and Morgana clapping her hands together.

‘Perfect.’

**

‘Sire, I…’

‘You should have told me.’ Arthur looked out across Camelot, watched as the sun set over his Kingdom. Would he be King, if he hadn't had Merlin by his side?

‘I was afraid that you’d hate me, that you’d have to choose between your Kingdom and… me.’ The King finally turned, only to see the defiant streak in Merlin’s eyes. The lack of respect for his title, the undying loyalty that came just because Merlin found him worthy.

‘Are we talking about your Magic, or the… Prince.’ Merlin winced at the last word, to which Arthur wanted to apologise. Gods, he would give anything just to know what Merlin was thinking right now.

‘Both.’ He admitted, the word cracking the last shard of Arthur’s heart.

‘I would have chosen you. Believed you. Merlin,’ Arthur paused, shocked to hear how ragged his voice sounded when he said the man’s name, ‘I will always choose you.’

Merlin’s choked sob was the last thing he could take, the King closing the distance between them and pausing when he was close enough to see the flecks of gold that were always in those bright eyes. He didn’t quite know if he had permission to touch, hands faltering when they reached for the sorcerer, while Merlin’s chin titled towards him.

No fear, no hesitance, just the trust that was still between them.

‘Why?’

_Why didn’t he tell him?_

_Why didn’t he use his Magic?_

_Why did he stand here, like Arthur was worthy of saving?_

‘I told you, Arthur. I’m happy to be here.’ Merlin’s voice was quiet, but just as strong as it had been on that day when he’d first said it. There was no deception, nothing untrue about the way he spoke the words that had the warmth in Arthur’s chest bubbling up.

‘By my side.’ Arthur murmured, finally letting his fingers brush over Merlin’s wet cheeks. The Sorcerer turned his cheek into it, eyes darting between Arthur’s like he was trying to understand what was changing between them.

‘Till the day I die.’ Merlin finished, the tremble in his throat catching the phrase half-way. Arthur waited for the joke, for the sassy remark or the name calling, waited for the panic that came whenever Merlin’s words got to him. This time, he did nothing other than lean forwards, his free hand coming to settle on Merlin’s hip.

When Merlin’s lips finally hit his, he wasn’t sure who had moved.

Not that it mattered, they were bound to each other in a way that he didn’t care to change.


End file.
